


Into The Unknown

by ghostlyGatherings



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Frozen 2 (2019) Spoilers, Gen, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, How Do I Tag, Master of Death Harry Potter, Not Epilogue Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, written cause i can't stop listening into the unknown on repeat (both versions)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:28:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21628405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlyGatherings/pseuds/ghostlyGatherings
Summary: (I really should update my other works before posting another, but I'm an adult and can do whatever the fuck I want.)Harry's magic is becoming wilder. Mysterious voices keep him up at night. Could following the singing of a voice that might just be a manifestation of childhood trauma be the real solution to his problems?(this is gonna be a whole big thing just trust me on this)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Into The Unknown

Harry lied awake for the third sleepless night in a row. It was getting quite ridiculous really. Maybe he did need to see a mind healer like Hermione suggested, or at least a therapist. Despite his background with the dark arts and miscellaneous forces entering his mind as a child, he didn’t think a 19 year old should be hearing as many voices as he did at night. Yet, here he found himself, completely given up on blocking out the voices having already tried everything to mute them. Herbal teas, ear plugs, meditation, and a few different silencing charms were all useless to the indecipherable muttering.

Like clockwork the voices came at the stroke of midnight. Thousands of whispers in different tones and pitches in all kinds of languages that he didn’t recognize. Occasionally, Harry would catch something that resembled a latin language but was never successful in the translation of it. From midnight to three in the morning, they would buzz around his mind until finally ceasing with the call from a melodic voice. Four simple notes beckoning, reaching out like a hand for him to take. Harry never dared to answer.

The singing echoed through his flat louder than ever. It almost felt like it was getting closer. Growing impatient with him.

“I can hear you.” Harry whispered in his bedroom to the darkness, “but I won’t...” Won’t what? Won’t answer? He already did in a way. Won’t follow it? The voice was coming from everywhere it seemed. 

And if it was calling him to go somewhere, Harry was done with looking for trouble. He’d seen enough people die and lived enough life to warrant a long break from it. He was happily living with his two best friends, settled into one of Remus and Sirius’ old muggle London flats from when they were on the run, and kept tabs on the other black residences as well as allowing those affected by the war to stay in them. He, Ron, and Hermione were helping restore buildings and reunite families. It was good work that made the pit of guilt in his stomach feel just a bit smaller. The only adventure he needed right now was helping the wizarding world back onto its feet.

The four notes sounded off again. Harry sat up from his bed listening to it ring out through his ears. “I’m going mad.” The young wizard concluded resting his hands on his knees, staring down at the floor. “You’re not real. You’re not even a voice. Even if I heard you…” He took a deep breath. “Bloody hell, I’m talking to air now.” With an oof, Harry fell back arms spread onto the bed.

There was silence. A small part of him wished the voice would respond. The rest of him just wanted to sleep.

“Even if I heard you,” Harry started again. “I made a life for myself here with people I love.” A similar feeling to when Fleur would leave the room filled his chest. Hermione once told him it was because she was part veela. It was lingering feeling of desire left after you leave the presence of a veela. Quite similar to one of a siren, and that was the only way he could describe this beautiful voice. A siren whose call he needed to block. He shook his head. “I could be risking everything.”

Four notes. Harry bolted off of his bed, eyes darting across his room. “What do you want?” He really has gone mad now. But there has to be more to this voice. He can just feel it. “C’mon, you’ve kept me awake this long. Don’t I deserve something more? Or is this some big plan? Distract the “chosen one” and bring back some dark lord I’ll have to fight later?” It just seemed like that's how his life was going to be for the next 60 years or so.

Another moment of silence hung in the room. Harry rubbed his eyes not sure what his next move would be. What if for this one single time hearing voices was a good thing? What if someone was trying to reach him for any other reason than killing him? Couldn’t the universe ever do anything in his favor for once? More what ifs filled the young mind of the wizard trying to grasp any positivity that could be in a situation such as this. He thought the universe kind of owed him at this point.

What if I’m not where I’m meant to be?

The thought hit him like a gut punch. Harry’s mind began to race scanning his memories from the past couple months. In short, it’s been hard. After snapping the elder wand, he has felt something deep inside of him that he’d blocked behind mental walls hoping to ignore it until a later time. Hoping he’d understand it when he got a little bit older, but with a little bit of time, and classifying as a little bit older, it’s gone undealt with. His magic grew wilder and hard to direct then it used to be. Many times, Harry would use way more force than needed which was unhelpful when it came to the delicate touch needed to rebuild the grand Hogwarts castle. He felt the other volunteers were growing tired of his accidents sending him to help in the garden with Neville. It was frustrating. All he wanted to do was help, and everything was just confusing. 

This voice felt like a way out. It felt like it knew that Harry was longing for a way out.

Four notes answered, and it was all the confirmation that Harry needed. Sliding a bottomless messenger bag out from under his bed, he began filling it with necessities. Clothes, potions, other survival gear he had acquired through paranoia driven shopping sprees, all fitting neatly at his side. The voice sang with only short breaks between as he packed. What ifs began filling his mind again as each question just raised more questions. Harry now fully convinced that not only was it very much real, but it knew something. 

Is it near him? He slipped his wand into the holster around his wrist. Did it know him? He laced up his steel-toed dragon hide boots. Could it feel his presence or was it a person calling out just hoping for anyone to answer? He pulled on a thick jumper and the messenger bag. Was he going to be able to even find the voice on his own or was it going to help him somehow? Harry then pulled out a small square of parchment, briefly scrawled out a message, and left it behind on the dresser. Stepping out onto the front doorstep, Harry watched as the first snowflakes of winter began to fall. 

Harry hummed the notes into the quiet London street. The melody drifted north until falling silent. For a brief moment, it scared him. He didn’t impulsively pack everything he owned and wrote the worst “be back later” note to his best friends in the world to be left alone just as his journey began. Closing his eyes, the young wizard took a deep breath of the cold fresh air. He’ll think through this decision later on in the journey when it’s too late to turn back. Harry opened his eyes, faced north, and before taking the first step, he whispered to himself, “into the unknown.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked the chapter or thought something sounded weird or are confused by anything, please leave a comment!! I love hearing feedback. Not all of the fic is going to be song-based unless y'all want more of them.


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